This comment from an aunt yesterday, when we had people for lunch. I guess it wouldnt have stung so much, except that I am a few pounds lighter than my weight at conception. Yeah. Nice.
To deflect the sting, I made some smart ass comment about my butt being big, my belly being flabby, and my tatas sagging. But, it stung. I would never admit to that, of course (I mean, that might chink my armor) but, honestly, it hurt.
I've been discussing going back to the gym with Peter because I realize it is something I need to do. The bedrest worked a number on my back, abs, and legs. I do NEED to do something. I've always been a big girl and I'm (somewhat) at terms with that. I do yoga at home, on occasion, but I could benefit from getting my butt back into a kickboxing or RPM class, or by swimming a few laps a couple of times a week. I know I need to do this. I want to do this. But, I guess hearing people tell me I look "great" after having twins, I kind of thought... Well... That I looked okay. I mean, I'm back in pants that I couldnt wear since before Nick and Sophie.
But. (or is that "butt"?)
So. Here we are. Me looking at the gym schedule and preparing to part with several hundreds of dollars for the year membership. Yuck. In addition to trying to figure out a class schedule that will work with Peter's work schedule, I know it's going to suck getting up in the mornings. I could, of course, do stuff at home. But will I? Probably not. I'm not big in the "workout will power" section. Of course, owning a gym membership doesnt fix that. But I'm hoping that it would do something for me since knowing that is money I cant use on diapers.
Not to mention, an investment in myself is an investment in the twins. My knees are hurting and my back is killing me. I know that I lost (what little) muscle tone I had being in bed for 16 weeks. Come spring, I want to be able to enjoy the little ones at the park. I enjoy walking to the super market; I dont want to hurt when doing that. And I'd really, really like to not wake up with a backache. So... the gym wins. As much as I hate it. (And as much as I hate the "New Year's Resolution Gymers" that I am going to encounter (and haggle with in the too-small parking lot) when I go back.) I'm hoping our insurance offers a discount because budgeting in a gym membership isnt going to be fun. But I have to do something. I cant stay at this weight and I cant start off the babies with an unhealthy mom. They need better than that. They sure as hell deserve it.
This question, however, leads me to another one: "When are you going to lose the baby wait?"
That's what we've been doing, really, for years. Over a decade. A baby wait. Everything has revolved around it. Waiting on baby. Even the opening page of Nicholas and Sophia's baby book says "Waiting for Babies".
You'd think with Bobby and Maya home safely, I'd feel out of the baby wait. But I dont. I just feel like it has shifted gears. Instead of waiting to get pregnant, waiting to get out of the first trimester, waiting to get passed the point of viability, waiting on labor, waiting to leave the NICU... Now, I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for something "bad". It almost feels impossible that we could be lucky and have no real issues... No returns to the hospital. (Preemies have a 1 in 3 chance of getting admitted back into the hospital if they are discharged during winter.) No challenges as a result of prematurity... Could we be so lucky? Could we? I'm trying to believe yes. But I'm struggling.
Especially since the babies are in the nursery (which, let me set the stage, is ATTACHED to our room. You walk into Peter's closet and the nursery is off his closet... It's not like the kids are even a room away...), I have nightmares of babies not breathing, of them being blue, of blood or vomit... SIDS, choking, there's always something. I mean, let's face it; orphaned parents know all that could go wrong. What happened to me/you isnt the worst- there is always something else that we've read, someone else we've met, that we feel could be "worse" than what we've lost and becomes our fear. NICU and orphaned parents experiencing PTSD? I'm not surprised. We live through hell; it's no surprise that there is fall out. We may not be diving under tables or seeking out therapists or taking meds to cope, but that doesnt mean that every single parent who goes through this walks away without a scrape. Some scars are just deeper than the surface. But, I guarantee you, we all have them.
As I hold them and look at them, I try to just let it go. To let those feelings of waiting for some unforeseen inevitability go. I cant change a future I cant fight or prepare for- so I have to let it go. I have to enjoy today and stop worrying. I can only prevent so much.
What a "failure as a mommy" feeling... And yet, somewhat liberating too. To just be able to enjoy each day and not worry about what you can and cant intercept... I dont mean to imply that we should take risks... Only that I cant worry about some boogyman in the darkness.
I'm a work in progress... It's tough, but I'm trying.